


Home Run

by phandomsub



Series: Kinkshame [2]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Siblings, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest, Smut, Taboo, Wordcount: 5.000-10.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 10:45:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13568949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phandomsub/pseuds/phandomsub
Summary: Phil's inadmissible feelings for Dan are getting out of hand, and his little brother isn't making it any easier.





	Home Run

**Author's Note:**

> Me writing this fic does not mean I support incest in real life. I don't. It's merely a fantasy kink, in the same way that dd/lg and petplay are fantasy kinks, just minus the roleplay aspect since it is already fiction. Take this work with a very large helping of 'don't like, don't read'. Thank you.

Phil sighs heavily as he ups the volume on the quiet TV, the shrill voices of Saturday morning cartoons slowly creeping over the monotonous droning of the air-conditioning unit. The cool air blowing into the open living room doesn’t do much to stop the back of his t-shirt from sticking to the leather behind him, an unwelcome –  yet familiar – reminder of the English heatwave that’s lingered for over a week now. It’s hot.  _Too hot_ , Phil thinks as he flings the remote aside and slumps against the arm of the couch, tired eyes drooping closed.  _So hot it could wake the dead._

His suspicions are confirmed when he hears the unmistakable patter of footsteps descending the stairs – the temperature must have reached apocalyptic levels, because nothing else could get his little brother out of bed before noon on a weekend.

‘Fuck, it’s hot,’ Dan whines as he ambles across the room, bare feet squeaking dully against tile.

Phil doesn’t bother wasting energy formulating a proper response and merely grunts in agreement. Bathing in the artificial breeze, he blindly listens to the fridge door swinging open in the adjoining kitchen, closely followed by a soft sigh of relief from Dan at the cool air it offers.

‘And there’s no milk. Great,’ Dan huffs. The refrigerator seal snaps shut, then open again. ‘Mum at work?’

Cornered into conversation, Phil mumbles a muffled, ‘yep.’

Then comes a noise he can’t quite place. The sudden, unfamiliar sound of ruffling plastic piques Phil’s curiosity enough to finally open his eyes and look across at his brother; Dan’s head is hidden behind the open freezer door, but his body is in perfect view from Phil’s place on the couch. Long, tanned legs extend from the oversized shirt that rides up his slender thighs as he rummages, balanced on tip-toe to make up for the overdue growth-spurt Phil had been gifted on his sweet sixteenth. Phil drags in a sharp breath through his teeth as he watches the summer sunlight dance across the endless soft skin. The patterns it makes are hypnotising – they take advantage of his overheating brain, lulling it into a speechless stupor.

‘Big surprise,’ Dan snorts, slamming the freezer shut with careless force, a pink icypole dangling from his left hand. ‘But at least she’s not here to nag me about– what? Why are you looking at me like that?’

Phil blinks rapidly as he’s snapped back to reality. He hurriedly hoists himself up into a sitting position, forcing his vision up to a safer spot and his thoughts far, far down. The shape of his slack lips mimic the white '0' stitched to the front of Dan’s shirt as he grasps at an excuse.

‘Why the hell are you wearing my top?’ he says.-

Dan looks down at the red football jersey he wears – it fits too loose on his small frame, the parallel white stripes of its hem resting against thigh rather than hip and the shallow V-neck showing too much collarbone, yet it somehow manages to look better on him than the broad torso to which it was tailored. Phil hyper-fixates on the small spark of jealousy he feels towards his stunning younger brother in an attempt to defuse anything else it ignites. Dan just shrugs.

‘No clean clothes,’ he says.

‘I’ve got a game Monday!’ Phil says as he watches Dan tear open the icypoles’ plastic wrapper with his teeth. ‘You’re gonna get it all sticky!’

‘Oh, get over it,’ Dan says, pretty brown eyes sparkling as he traipses over to the couch and collapses beside Phil, too close for comfort, especially considering the blazing heat.

‘Or you could just do your fucking washing,’ Phil grumbles, trying to subtly shift away as those bronzed legs stretch out towards him, but just ends up slipping further into the dip of their combined weight. He doesn’t get a second chance to try – Dan’s feet have him trapped in an instant, calves resting in his lap, caging him in, and Phil doesn’t trust his own neurons enough to try and push them off.

‘Haven’t had time,’ Dan says, evidently clueless to how the beads of sweat on Phil’s dark hairline double.

‘Oh, yeah?’ Phil presses. ‘Not even last night?’

Dan’s quiet for a minute, fingers idly easing the pink ice up from its wrapping, before speaking again with a perfectly practised nonchalance.

‘I was doing homework.’

The lie is obvious before he’s even said it – Phil can see it in the dark eyes that lock with his own. He’s already armed with a call-out response, but it catches in his throat when Dan’s full lips open to wrap tightly around the tip of the icypole. There’s a loaded moment where Dan’s mouth slides down the wet sweet and Phil’s goes dry; he swallows thickly, watches just long enough to see the swirl of Dan’s tongue, and then he’s forcing his focus back onto the forgotten TV.

‘I can hear when you sneak out, you know,’ Phil says evenly, eyes glued to the screen. ‘Your window is right next to mine, idiot.’

‘Alright, fine.’ Dan admits. ‘I wasn’t doing homework. So what? I was still busy.’

‘Where did you go?’ Phil asks.

‘Out.’

‘With who?’

‘None of your business.’

‘Yes, it is.’

‘How?’

‘Because it was one of my friends, wasn’t it?’ Phil grits, fingernails biting into the arm of the couch.

‘Maybe,’ Dan says – Phil can feel his shrug. ‘So what if it was?’

‘How many of the football team have had you now, huh?’ Phil snips. The vibrant colours of the children’s cartoon begin to blur with how hard he stares.

Dan’s quiet again as he sucks at his icypole. Phil does his best to ignore the slick sound it makes when he pulls it out.

‘All of them,’ he says, and Phil doesn’t miss the gushed undertone of pride. ‘Except for you, obviously.’

‘You’re a fucking nympho, Danny,’ Phil says, shaking his head. ‘You have a problem.’

The legs lying across Phil’s lap shift at that, brushing a little higher. He holds his breath, skin burning hot where his basketball shorts hitch and a bare calf presses against it.

‘You’re just jealous.’

Phil’s neck turns so fast he gets whiplash.

‘W-What?’ he stutters.

Dan shrugs again, feathered fringe falling into his eyes as he leans sideways against the back of the couch.

‘You wish you were getting laid as much as me,’ he says.

‘Oh,’ Phil breathes, shoulders relaxing. ‘No. No, I’m definitely  _not_  jealous of you fucking eleven different guys since the start of term.’

‘Ten,’ Dan corrects, pointedly.

‘Right,’ Phil says, looking back at the TV, face heating despite the rapidly cooling room. ‘Ten, whatever.’

Silence settles between them as cheerful credits roll onscreen, the forgettable program bleeding into another indistinguishable kids’ show. It does nothing to hold Phil’s attention, yet he watches it anyway.  _Out of laziness_ , he tells himself – nothing to do with how close the remote is to his little brothers’ ass.

‘This is boring,’ Dan whines when yet another episode finishes, throwing his empty wrapper at the coffee table. It misses entirely, and Dan does absolutely nothing to pick it up. Instead, he flops against Phil’s side, petite body a lot heavier than it looks when boneless.

‘Get off,’ Phil groans. He tries to move his upper body away, but Dan just slumps along with him.

‘But I’m  _bored_ ,’ Dan says, chin resting on Phil’s broad shoulder, mouth hovering close to his neck. Phil blames the goosebumps that rise on the blaring aircon rather than Dan’s breath.

‘Stop it,’ he says, elbowing Dan off him, perhaps a little harder than necessary. ‘It’s too fucking hot to have you draped all over me.’

Dan rubs at the tender spot on his chest as he rests back against the plush couch. He looks as if he might say something in response, but trades it at the last second for a pitiful pout of his lips.

‘Fine,’ he says, dragging his legs from his brothers’ lap; every muscle in Phil’s body goes taut as they skim high across his thighs, only relaxing once Dan’s toes touch leather. ‘I’m going to play games, then.’

As soon as Dan rolls off the sofa, the torrid temperature of the room seems to drop about ten degrees. Relief at the newfound distance ebbs away at the tension in Phil’s being, but the respite is only short-lived – once his long limbs find the floor, Dan begins to move towards the TV unit on all fours, hands and knees moving fluidly across off-white tiles. Phil’s fingers seize where they’re discretely rearranging the front of his shorts, and they twitch uncontrollably when he catches a flash of white fabric.

‘I can’t believe you lost Zelda,’ Dan mumbles into the low games cupboard, elbows bending to get a better look at the back. The slight tilt it gives to his hips has Phil’s jersey creeping up, exposing the little strip of white underwear nestled between his soft legs.

Phil opens his mouth to remind Dan that  _he_  was the last one to use it, but the message gets lost somewhere between his foggy brain and heavy tongue; no sound comes out, and he’s just left gaping dumbly at the way Dan’s ass shifts as he digs through rows and rows of games. Each time he moves the shirt tugs a little higher, until the entirety of his underwear are on display. They’re nothing special – just a pair of plain, fitted Y-fronts, the pliable bands of its legs resting snugly in the crease of his thighs. More than anything Phil wants to look away, but he can’t.

‘I guess Mario Kart will do,’ Dan says, sitting up on his heels, baring a spare white controller in one hand.

Phil’s ardent blue eyes stay fixed on Dan as he shuffles around on lightly-bruised knees and starts crawling back, straight towards him. The neck of the oversized top dips low, showcasing deep collarbones and formerly hidden hickeys that expand in hue the closer he gets. By the time Dan stops in front of him, Phil can see their slight tinge of yellow and he’s reminded of just how much he hates the colour.

Slipping in between Phil’s haphazardly spread legs, Dan slides again into a sitting position, dark hair falling across darker brows. His sweet-stained pink lips play with a smile as nimble fingers drop the controller into Phil’s lap, seemingly ignorant to how it makes him jolt.

‘Play with me?’ he asks sweetly, laying a delicate hand on Phil’s stiff thigh.

‘I’m–’ Phil chokes, voice thick.

‘Please, Philly.’ Dan bites his lip and blinks languidly, looking up through his long lashes. Phil’s eye twitches.

‘I…’ he tries again. ‘I can’t.’

Two avid hands reach out to grab at narrow shoulders, but only to shove Dan away, just far enough for Phil to get himself to his feet. Dan falls back on the heels of his palms and watches him stand – Phil’s head swims with the sudden rush of blood and he stumbles a little as he walks, making an automatic beeline towards the staircase.

‘Where are you going?’ Dan whines from the floor.

‘To…shower,’ he says, tugging at his sweaty grey shirt. ‘Need to…to cool down.’

Without a second glance, Phil hurries up the carpeted steps, blatantly ignoring his brothers’ complaints as he reaches the landing. He turns swiftly into the first room to the right, slamming the bathroom door behind him before falling against it and finally letting himself breathe.

‘Fuck,’ he exhales, running a hand through his damp hair.

He stands there for a while, eyes closed and breathing deep,  weak knees reliant on the support of the door. Grateful for the natural coolness of the room and the relief it brings, Phil tries to ignore the straining heat of his body, built up in one place in particular, as he repeats his silent mantra: h _e’s your brother,_  he thinks,  _he’s your brother, your brother, your fucking little brother._

‘Okay,’ he whispers to himself, finally opening his eyes to the bright room and balancing on his own two feet. ‘Just ignore it.’

To keep his hands from wandering to where they so desperately want to go, Phil grabs the black bathmat from the edge of the tub and lays it out before the open shower. Absently, he kicks aside the sopping wet towel Dan’s left in a heap on the floor and immediately regrets it; the strong smell of Dan’s sweet shampoo hits him and he falters, stomach swooning and face softening with something akin to affection – until he spots something laying on the bottom of the shower and it all turns to irritation.

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ Phil says, picking up the crumpled, empty bottle of body wash. ‘Daniel!’

The muffled Mario music pauses downstairs at the echoing shout, shortly followed by heavy footsteps that stop right outside the bathroom door.

‘What?’ Dan’s voice rings through white fibreglass.

Phil’s long fingers wrap around the doorhandle and wrench it open; he comes face-to-face with his brother, standing significantly shorter but with towering pride, and holds up the incriminating bottle.

‘You’ve used all my body wash,’ he says, a little shrilly. ‘ _Again_.’

‘And?’ Dan shoots back. ‘It was practically empty anyway.’

‘That’s not the  _point_ ,’ Phil says, stalking over to the bin by the sink and tossing the plastic into it. ‘It’s mine. You have your own!’

‘Yours smells better.’

‘That’s because it  _costs_  more.’

‘And mum won’t buy it for me, so why can’t I just use yours?’

‘Because I paid for it,’ Phil says, crossing his arms. ‘Besides, the only reason she won’t buy it for you is because of that stupidly expensive shampoo you insist on using.’

‘It’s to stop my hair going frizzy!’ Dan says, mimicking Phil’s defensive stance. ‘It’s not my fault you got straight hair and I didn’t.’

‘Well, I guess if yours is better I can just use it without asking, then,’ Phil mocks, sidestepping to the shower and snatching the red bottle from the overstuffed rack.

‘No!’ Dan yells, lunging towards him. ‘Fuck you, give it back.’

‘Make me,’ Phil sneers – Dan makes a grab for the shampoo but Phil moves it away just in time, holding it above his head, far out of Dan’s reach.

‘Don’t be a fucking dick,’ Dan says, jumping up in a failed attempt to snag it. He loses balance on the balls of his feet and falls forwards against Phil’s solid body. Phil’s breath hitches.

‘Dan, stop it,’ he says lowly as Dan tries to jump again, supple warmth rubbing dangerously along Phil’s front.

‘No,’ Dan says, gripping at Phil’s shoulder for support.

‘Dan,  _stop_ ,’ Phil warns, trying to shake him off.

‘It’s  _mine_ ,’ Dan grits.

He lifts one agile leg and wraps it around Phil’s slender waist, hooking onto his hipbone for leverage to climb his way up to the bottle. As he pushes up again, his crotch rubs flush against Phil’s, dragging across the prominent bulge in the front of his shorts.

‘D-Don’t!’ Phil squeaks, frantically grabbing at Dan’s outstretched arm with his free hand and twisting.

Dan tears away with an annoyed cry as Phil spins him around, bending his thin arm awkwardly behind his arched back. Letting the shampoo bottle drop carelessly to the ground, Phil fists at the loose collar by the nape of Dan’s neck and, using a half-forgotten self-defence move and his training strength, bends him face-first over the wide bathroom bench. Dan yelps when his chest hits the faux marble, but falls silent once he’s pinned tightly against it. Both boys go still for a moment, spare the heaving of their hot and heavy breathing – and then Dan begins to wriggle.

At first, Phil thinks he’s trying to worm free of his grip, but the real intentions of Dan’s swaying hips quickly become apparent.

‘ _Oh_.’ Phil shudders unexpectedly, eyelashes fluttering as Dan’s ass grinds back against his dick. ‘Dan, what–’

‘You’re so hard,’ Dan gushes, head turned to the side as he presses back harder. ‘I can feel you like this.’

‘It’s not–’ Phil says, tripping over his own words, grasp loosening slightly as Dan keeps grinding. ‘Stop that. It’s not you, I’m not–’

‘Oh, come off it,’ Dan snorts. ‘I’m not that fucking stupid. I see the way you look at me.’

‘I…I don’t look at you like anything,’ Phil tries, but his voice is strained with the gentle pleasure between his legs.

‘Just admit it,’ Dan says. ‘You want me just as much as your friends do. Don’t you,  _big brother_?’

Phil shivers violently – he expects the addition to send a sickness to his stomach, but instead it goes straight to his dick.

‘No,’ he chokes pathetically as his cock pulses.

‘Really?’ Dan smirks. ‘Then why are you rubbing your dick against me?’

It’s then that Phil realises Dan isn’t the only one moving – his own hips are rocking gently as well, rutting against the firmness Dan’s body offers. Immediately, his hands surrender their arrest, scurrying to clutch at Dan’s sides instead to steady him to a stop. Phil pulls back just enough to put space between their lower halves, will strong enough to ignore the ache that swells at the loss, but not to let go of him entirely.

‘Fuck,’ Phil says, head hanging in defeat as he gives up all pretence. ‘Dan, we can’t do this.’

‘But I want you so badly,’ Dan whines, tanned legs inching wider, and a stronger man than Phil wouldn’t be able to resist looking.

His eyes fervently follow the curve of Dan’s ass; the red jersey has hitched again, its tangled hem bunched up above the band of his underwear, and Phil’s jaw goes slack as he spots what’s on them.

‘Oh my god,’ he says, instinctively edging the shirt further up, revealing a strip of smooth skin and deep dimples. ‘Did you…’

‘I’m already wet and open for you, Philly,’ Dan says, in a voice Phil’s never heard leave his brothers’ lips. He shivers again, limbs frozen.

Dan’s smaller, softer hand crawls towards one of Phil’s, twisted in the breathable fabric of his jersey – so slowly, slow enough that Phil has more than enough time to pull away, but the realisation seems to have paralysed him. Pretty fingers wrap around his wrist and drag it down, grazing his fingertips across white cotton, and then they’re pressing against the wetness that’s soaking through Dan’s underwear.

‘Dan,’ Phil chokes, trembling with how desperately he tries to restrain himself. Even so, he can’t help but rub against the damp spot.

‘Your fingers feel so good,’ Dan sighs, back bowing. ‘Please, touch me.’

‘We shouldn’t,’ Phil says, a plea that falls deaf even on his own ears as Dan’s skillful hand lets go of his wrist and glides down to the left leg of his pants.

Two manicured fingers burrow beneath the elastic, guiding it into the groove of his first knuckle before slowly beginning to peel the material back. It’s torturously slow – or perhaps too fast, Phil can’t decide – and he completely forgets to breathe as more and more pale, perfect skin is exposed. The air burns in Phil’s lungs as Dan tugs his underwear to the side, and it rushes out of him when they pass the cleft of his ass.

‘Holy fuck,’ Phil says, cock twitching at the sight of Dan’s wet, stretched hole.

‘I’d be so easy for you, big brother,’ Dan says, left hand joining his right to ease his round cheeks further apart. ‘So slick and warm. Feel.’

For some inexplicable reason, Phil does exactly as he’s told – for possibly the first time in his life, his heat-exhausted and endorphin-drunk brain doesn’t fight his little brothers’ demands, and his fingers move without second thought to the heat between his spread cheeks. Phil presses his forefinger to Dan’s hole, intending only to do as Dan asked and  _feel_ , but his body is so slick and open that the tip slides in with absolutely no resistance. They huff a simultaneous breath at the unintended breach.

‘ _Ah_ , shit,’ Dan whispers, ass pushing back against the pressure on his sensitive muscles – Phil’s hand quivers as he watches Dan’s body envelop his finger, sliding down on it. ‘ _Fuck_.’

‘Jesus Christ,’ Phil forces out, voice wavering at the overwhelming knowledge of how incredible his brother feels in his most intimate area.

‘ _Yes_ ,’ Dan says, starting to gently fuck himself on Phil’s long finger. ‘More.’

Somewhere under the delusional arousal, Phil knows he should be stopping this, but the lovely noise Dan makes when he slides in a second renders it too easy to forget. With his middle finger buried inside they sink in even deeper, Dan’s lithe body taking it to the hilt, and Phil’s hips stutter at the thought of this intense heat around his longing, aching cock.

‘Fuck, Philly,’ Dan whimpers, one hand letting go of himself to press against the half-tiled wall. His palm anchors him firmly to rock back with more force, hips swivelling expertly, and then he’s vibrating with a sound Phil’s tried so hard not to dream of.

‘God, you feel so good,’ Phil groans, watching with anguished awe where he slides in and out of Dan, black fringe fused to his flushed forehead. ‘Why do you feel so fucking good?’

‘Would feel better around your cock,’ Dan pants out, fingernails digging into the grout.

‘We shouldn’t,’ Phil says again, weakly – his new mantra.

‘No,’ Dan gushes excitedly, ‘but we could.’

Phil moans quietly, looking down at his baby brother, his legs spread so willingly, offering himself up.  _He’s right,_  Phil thinks,  _we could_.

‘I don’t have condoms,’ he says, rational mind breaking through in a moment of sobriety.

‘Doesn’t matter,’ Dan says, shrugging the best he can in his position.

‘Daniel,’ Phil says sharply, wrist stopping the unheeded motion it had matched to Dan’s languid rocking. ‘You don’t– you can’t just go around riding every god-damned dick without protection.’

‘Oh, calm down, you jealous bitch,’ Dan says, flat words tinged with laughter. ‘I’m safe, I’m clean. I’ve never fucked bare.’

‘Neither have I,’ Phil says, for no real reason.

‘I know,’ Dan grins. He slows his rocking and purposefully tighten his muscles around Phil’s fingers, and Phil forgets why he’s angry, eyes drawn to the flex of muscles in Dan’s slim back. ‘That’s why I want you to raw me.’

‘ _Shit_ ,’ Phil hisses, nails digging desperately into Dan’s side as those words affect him far more than they should. ‘Dan…’

‘Stop thinking so much,’ Dan says, voice softening to something sultry. Freeing the stretched leg of his underwear, he reaches back to blindly skim the front of Phil’s shorts, quickly finding what he’s searching for. Teasingly, he starts to touch Phil’s straining cock, tracing along the shaft and rubbing idly at the trapped head. ‘Want you so bad.’ Dan squeezes, and Phil’s hips buck. ‘Would feel so good inside me.’

Phil’s dilated pupils flick between Dan’s hand and his own. His dick absolutely throbs with how much he wants to push into that pretty, little ass; having Dan under him, gagging for it, pushes his desire into something too much to handle. Slowly, he slides out his soaked fingers.

‘Feel so empty,’ Dan whimpers, writhing. ‘Make it better, Philly, please? Fuck me.’

‘…oh,  _fuck it_.’

In one swift motion Phil yanks down Dan’s twisted underwear, leaving them to bundle around his eagerly spaced knees. With mad frenzy, his slick hand forces itself into the tight expanse at the front of his own briefs while the other works down both pairs of bottoms, just far enough to pull his thick cock free – the loss of restriction on his dick is wonderful, but it pales ridiculously in comparison to the wet warmth he feels as he eases the head between Dan’s cheeks.

‘Yes, yes, fuck,’ Dan pleads, pushing up onto tip-toes to better angle his hips as Phil lines himself up. ‘Fuck me, please.’

‘God, it’s true what everyone says about you, isn’t it?’ Phil muses in breathless disbelief. He pushes his cock against Dan’s hole and watches how he spasms with desire, the thick, blunt head finding more resistance than his fingers had. ‘Such a little slut. Look at you. So desperate to be fucked you’re begging for your own brothers’ cock.  _Fuck,_  Danny _._ ’

‘Please,’ Dan whines. ‘I want it.’

Phil exhales deeply, his clammy hand wrapping around the lovely contrast of soft skin and hard bone that forms the curve of Dan’s tender hip. His eyes drag from Dan’s head of silky, curling hair to his narrow shoulders, roaming along the big, white lettering that’s stretched across them, sewn into the back of the jersey – it spells out the taboo reminder of their shared surname, and Phil stares straight at it as he thrusts deep inside his little brother.

‘ _Ah_!’ Dan cries, poised legs starting to shake already as a thick cock fills him up.

‘Oh, fuck,’ Phil moans, eyes rolling back into his head and head on his neck – his impatient hips don’t give either of them time to adjust to the sensation, immediately pulling from Dan’s tight hole and then sinking right back in, again and again. ‘Feel so fucking good.’

‘S-So big,’ Dan chokes out, voice strained. His palm slips on the wall where he struggles to brace against Phil’s thrusts that jolt his entire body, fucking into him hard and erratic. ‘Wasn’t expecting– oh, God.  _Philly_.’

Phil moans long and low, hands gripping at Dan’s supple body hard enough to bruise. Sweat rolls in droplets down his face as he leans forward and pivots his hips, senses overwhelmed by the feel and smell of Dan, the sounds his pretty mouth and hole make. Phil’s eyelids droop, vision blurring and lips panting as he takes his pleasure from the soft, open body beneath him.

‘ _Yes_ ,’ Dan says, high-pitched and downright greedy. His legs edge wider, as far as they can with his underwear stretched between them, and he finds his bearings with both hands on the wall. ‘Yes, yes, yes.’

‘Take it so well,’ Phil rambles without a conscious thought. He forces himself to focus on Dan’s ass, intoxicated with the way his cock disappears into it and how the plush cheeks bounce against his hips. Grabbing onto Dan’s shoulder, he fucks into him harder. ‘No wonder you pull so easy, fuck. Take cock like you were born for it.’

‘I fucking was,’ Dan huffs on an airy laugh, grinding back in perfect little circles.

‘ _Uh_ , Dan,’ Phil gasps, releasing Dan’s hip to slide his hand up the flawless skin of his side, leaving behind five small, red, oval marks. ‘Little bear.’

If he had the mind to think, Phil would be sure nothing could cut through the immense, dirty bliss that’s engulfed him completely – but the searing pain that splits through his shin proves him very, very wrong.

‘Ow!’ he cries, stumbling backwards from the unsuspected kick, cock slipping from the hot cavern of Dan’s body. ‘What the fuck was that for?’

‘I’ve told you,’ Dan says, straightening up and turning to face him, ‘only mum can call me that stupid nickname.’

Phil opens his mouth to reply, but all that comes out is a sharp yelp as two hands collide with his chest, shoving him backwards. The basketball shorts hanging around his thighs give him no room to steady himself and he goes down, a lucky snag of the towel rack the only thing keeping him from hitting the hard ground ass-first. He lowers himself down to sit on the bathmat, staring up at his little brother with offended incredulity, trying desperately to hold onto his annoyance as he watches Dan drop his underwear to the floor and kick them aside.

‘The hell are you doing?’ he asks, perplexed – Dan just shrugs as he steps forward, placing a foot on either side of Phil’s waist before dropping into his lap.

‘Want to ride you instead,’ he says, pushing Phil down onto his back by his shoulders.

‘You could have just asked,’ Phil grumbles, but goes down easy.

‘Like you would have said yes,’ Dan scoffs, shifting up onto his knees and reaching back to grip Phil’s cock, lining it back up with his hole.

‘Brat.’

‘Control freak.’

He sinks down and they both moan, Dan’s head tossing back.

‘God,’ he sighs. ‘You feel even bigger like this.’

Phil takes hold of Dan’s slim waist as he starts to move, pulling him all the way up his hard length before letting him drop back down. Phil’s hips snap up and Dan chokes on a gasp.

‘You’re the biggest I’ve ever had,’ Dan gushes, pretty eyes falling shut, long lashes flecked with reflex tears from the stretch of Phil’s cock. ‘Didn’t know,  _fuck_  – fill me up so well.’

‘Yeah?’ Phil says, rubbing at Dan’s leg, feeling the muscles tighten with every bounce. As he caresses Dan’s upper-thigh, Phil’s eyes stay trained to the skirt of his jersey still splayed across the tan skin, covering everything that lays beneath it.

‘Mhm,’ Dan whines, nodding. ‘So thick,  _ah_.’

‘Wanna see you,’ Phil says, tugging at the shirt. ‘Wanna know what you’re like.’

Dan doesn’t stop fucking himself on Phil’s cock as he fumbles at the hem. With wrists crossed, he peels the jersey up his slender body, hips still working as it rises off his chest and over his head. Phil stares in wonder as Dan flashes his naked beauty, shaking out his tousled hair and tossing the shirt aside.

‘Fuck,’ Phil moans, thrusting up so hard it lifts Dan from the ground slightly, tearing a long whine from him as he’s fully forced down onto Phil’s cock. ‘Jesus, you’re so– can I…’

‘Touch me, Philly,’ Dan says, taking one of Phil’s perspiring hands and placing it over his hard, flushed, little cock. ‘Want your big hands on me, wanted it for so long.’

Phil wraps his fingers around Dan’s length, hand almost encasing it entirely – only the sweet, uncut tip slips from his grasp, and Phil can see the way his dick weeps for him. Dan hiccups with pleasure, legs beginning to seize and shake as he grinds, needy and dirty and fast.

‘Oh, Danny,’ Phil says, head tipping back against the bathroom floor. ‘So good. So fucking good. Always had to listen to everyone talk about how well you take it, how well you fuck. They said…said it was such a shame you were my little brother, cause I couldn’t…couldn’t– oh, _fuck_.’

‘So big,’ Dan sobs, body convulsing as it struggles to choose between fucking back on Phil’s cock or into his hand. ‘Gonna make me come,  _oh_.’

Phil trembles, his free hand pawing at Dan’s pale chest, sheer with sweat and littered with delicate bruises. He finds one of Dan’s small, pink nipples and rubs at it feverishly as he fucks up into his tight, hot ass, stomach muscles clenching as his shattering orgasm is pulled to the surface.

‘M-Me too,’ he chokes, toes curling and thighs tensing. ‘So close, don’t stop, don’t stop.’

‘Come in me,’ Dan begs, folding forwards and bracing his hands on Phil’s chest with how desperately he grinds, the sensitive head of Phil’s cock rubbing right against his prostate over and over. ‘Please, wanna feel you come in me.’

Phil’s eyes roll back and his entire body goes rigid as the wave of bliss rushes over him. Loud, primal sounds spill from his lips as his dick pulses and hips stutter, pumping come up into his little brother and fucking it in even deeper. Some part of his brain registers that Dan’s coming too – Phil can feel the way his tight hole spasms around him, milking him of everything he’s got, and his pitchy, gorgeous sounds are echoing off the walls. Everything else is awash in white pleasure.

‘Fuck,’ Phil gasps as he gradually comes down, laboured breathing slowing and eyelids peeling open.

‘Mm,’ Dan hums – a content little noise in the back of his throat.

With his come streaked up Phil’s t-shirt and every one of his muscles relaxed, Dan eases himself off his brothers’ softening cock; Phil lifts his head to watch it slip from his body, slick and glossy with lube and come. As Dan shuffles off him onto the cold floor, Phil’s head drops back down with a thud and a diluted exhale. Blindly, his hand searches for the discarded football jersey, dragging it closer to roughly mop up the cooling mess.

‘So much for  _me_  getting it sticky,’ Dan sniggers. Phil tries not to, but ends up looking at him – his face is glowing, fucked-out yet calm, and flushed with his hair a mess and bright eyes focused on Phil. ‘Thought you needed it.’

‘That’s the least of my worries,’ Phil mutters, keeping the soiled shirt in his lap to cover himself. ‘What the fuck did we just do?’

Dan shrugs.

‘Fucked?’

‘Thanks,’ Phil says, rolling his eyes. ‘God, I’ve fucked up bad.’

‘Don’t be too hard on yourself,’ Dan says, carefully arranging himself to sit against the wall, knees pulled to his chest. Phil swallows thickly at the small trickle of his come that leaks from between his little brother’s cheeks. ‘You were more of a challenge than I thought you’d be. Even more than those supposedly-straight teammates of yours.’

Phil blinks slowly, eyebrows raising in sudden understanding.

‘You little shit,’ he says, laughing despite himself. ‘You just wanted to fuck an entire football team. Didn’t you?’

‘Home run,’ Dan says, grinning.

‘That’s baseball, you idiot.’

‘Whatever,’ Dan says, grabbing onto the towel rack and pulling himself to his feet. He steps over Phil to reach into the shower, twisting the hot tap and holding his hand under the spray. ‘I don’t care about sports.’

‘Only athletes.’

‘Exactly.’

‘So, what’s next then,’ Phil asks, sitting up, ‘the lacrosse team?’

‘God no,’ Dan snorts, turning the cold on full-bore. ‘Have you  _seen_  their captain? Even I’m not that keen.’

‘Oh, clearly not,’ Phil says, monotonous and disbelieving.

‘Besides,’ Dan adds, ‘why risk getting caught sneaking out when you’re in the next room?’

Phil eyes him cautiously, searching for any hint of humour in his casual implication – when he finds none, Phil shakes his head at his brothers’ naivete.

‘We’re not doing this again, Dan,’ he says seriously. ‘We can’t even  _talk_  about this.’

‘Uh-huh. Sure,’ Dan says, turning around and stepping into the water. ‘So, you joining me or what?’

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to @darlingimwhipped over on Tumblr for editing this and just being all-round amazing.


End file.
